


Beastly Beauty

by TobytheWise



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Blood, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Cuddling & Snuggling, Curses, Derek Hale as the Beast (Beauty and the Beast), Flashbacks, Frottage, Full Shift Werewolves, Huddling For Warmth, Knotting, M/M, Marking, Misunderstandings, Murder, Mutual Pining, Nemeton, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pack Bonding, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Pack Mom Stiles Stilinski, Past Kate Argent/Derek Hale, Puppy Piles, Scent Marking, Sexual Tension, Top Derek, Werewolf Bonds, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-11
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2019-11-14 12:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18052595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobytheWise/pseuds/TobytheWise
Summary: Being chased through the woods by a pack of wolves isn’t what Stiles would call an average Friday night but when he finds himself in the home of an undiscovered creature, Stiles can’t find it in himself to regret it. As he slowly makes friends with the beast and his pack of wolves, Stiles realizes maybe not everything is quite as they seem. The beast changes, growing more and more human as Stiles gets to know the man behind the beast. Libraries, betas, curses and undeniable sexual tension makes Stiles’ head spin with confusion but he’ll do everything in his power to remind the beast of his humanity. Will Stiles be able to save the beast from the curse? Or will good intended friends ruin Stiles and Derek’s chance at a happily ever after?OrA Sterek Beauty and the Beast AU





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NadiaHart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiaHart/gifts).



> This fic is written for my friend Nadia. Happy birthday Alpha! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art by the amazing Crypto <3

Chest heaving with every breathe, Stiles continues through the woods as fast as his legs will take him. He can hear Scott beside him as they move forward. Stiles’ chest fills with excitement and nerves as they run. 

“Dude,” Scott calls, tugging on Stiles’ arm and forcing him to stop. Scott’s face is bright red, his breaths wheezing out of his chest. “I have to stop. I forgot my inhaler.”

“Scott! I told you to bring it! This is the only time we can come out here and check this stuff out. There’s no way we’re turning back now!” For weeks there’s been strange reports of odd sounds coming from these woods and most recently, Erica Reyes, has gone missing while in these woods. Sure, they probably should be at home instead of walking into what’s most likely a murderer’s trap, but Stiles is curious. 

“I can’t keep going,” Scott says, shaking his head, still trying to catch his breath. “We have to go back, Stiles.”

“No way! We’re already in the middle of the woods. We might as well look around.”

An eerie howl sounds from the direction they were heading, startling them both. Stiles’ heart beats wildly in his chest as his eyes dart around, looking for any indication that the thing that made that sound is close by. 

Scott grabs his jacket, pulling him back toward where they parked. “Come on, man. I am not getting eaten by some wolf.”

“It was nothing, Scotty. We’re in California, there’s no wolves around here.”

“That sounded like a wolf and I am not sticking around to become its dinner!”

A branch snaps to their right, making both of their heads snap in that direction. “Did you hear that?” Stiles whispers, clutching Scott’s sleeve. 

“Stiles. There’s something out here.”

Another snap sounds behind them and they both flinch. “Here’s the plan, Scotty,” Stiles whispers, a shiver of fear running down his spin when he sees two golden eyes peek out from a nearby bush. “I’m going to run one way and I want you to run back to your car.”

“No way. I’m not leaving you out here alone.”

“Scott,” Stiles says in a stern voice. “You can’t run very long because of your asthma. I’ll run the other direction until I can find somewhere to hide or a tree to climb or something. I’ll walk back out of the woods during the daytime. It’ll be fine.”

Another howl sounds through the air, this time sounding of blood curdling anger. Fuck. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. The air around them seems to stand still as the other creatures nearby freeze. Stiles watches as his breath leaves little clouds through the freezing air, trying to steady his erratic heart. 

“Ready?” Stiles whispers, squeezing Scott’s arm. When he gets a slight nod from his friend, Stiles takes off running. 

He’s not sure how many are chasing him but he hopes they’re all coming after him instead of following Scott. His lungs burn from over exertion mixed with the chilled air and his legs begin to fatigue. Stiles tries to take a sharp left only to be cut off by a large dark colored wolf. He lets out a yelp before changing directions as fast as he can. 

The snap of a jaw to his right has him changing courses again. It’s not long before he realizes that these wolves are toying with him. They’re leading him in the direction they want him to go and because he doesn’t wanna be eaten, he keeps moving where they want. 

Panting, sweating, and exhausted, he slips on a patch of ice. “Fuck,” he yells as Stiles tumbles to the ground, wondering if this will be how he dies, eaten by strangely intelligent wolves. But instead, they seem to have backed off. He turns his head, looking all around but he can’t seem to find them anymore. Carefully, Stiles stands up only to be confronted with the sight of a large, beautiful house. 

“Hello?” Stiles calls. Unsurprisingly no one answers him. 

Slowly he makes his way up the steps to the front door. Checking the knob, Stiles finds it unlocked. Stiles shivers as the warmth of the house begins to to hit him and he realizes just how cold he is for the first time. 

“Hello?” he calls again, his voice echoing in the large house. He listens for a moment and when he doesn’t hear an answer Stiles decides it’s safe to assume no one is home. “Hope you don’t mind me crashing,” he murmurs to himself as he closes the door behind himself. 

As the warmth sinks in, Stiles takes his coat off. His undershirt is covered with sweat and he feels a bone deep exhaustion take over. He’s not sure how long those wolves chased and corralled him for but now he’s so fucking tired. He lets out a yawn as he searches for a place to sit down. Just for a little while. 

He finds a room upstairs that looks like it hasn’t been used in awhile so he goes in. Stripping himself of his wet clothes and hanging them to dry against the dresser, Stiles wonders whose house this is. Obviously the strange sounds have been the wolves but could the disappearances have something to do with whoever owns this house? Stiles ponders this as he yawns again, his body becoming more and more lethargic. His limbs hardly want to cooperate as he crawls into the bed in his boxers and socks. 

Stiles lets out a sigh as he snuggles under the blankets after looking out the window one last time. Snow has begun to fall but Stiles doesn’t feel worried. Sure it’s a freak thing when a snowstorm hits California but for some weird reason, this house makes him feel safe instead of panicked or fearful. The wolves seemed to have stopped coming after him, there’s no signs of anyone at the moment. Maybe he’s safe?

Stiles closes his eyes. “Only until my clothes are dry. Then I’ll go back out and find my way home,” he whispers to himself, drowsiness slowly overtaking him. Just before his mind goes blank with sleep, Stiles hears a howl.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets the betas. And the Beast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This weeks been really weird and I wanted to celebrate something happy. So have an extra chapter this week! We can pretend it's in honor of Pi Day haha! Go have a pie in my honor <3

Stiles wakes slowly. He’s surrounded by comfortable warmth. He lets out a happy sigh, snuggling further down into bed. His hand reaches out to pull his blankets further up his body when it lands in something soft. Stiles doesn’t recognize what that could be so he runs his fingers through the material over and over again. 

“Hmm,” he lets out a little hum as he continues to finger the softness. Fur, his brain supplies. But why would there be fur in his bed? 

Stiles’ body freezes as he slowly remembers what happened last night. He went running through the woods with Scott. He got separated from Scott. He found an abandoned home to sleep in for the night. Shit! It’s not as abandoned as he thought! 

Stiles’ eye fly open and a little squick leaves his throat as three sets of eyes stare at him. The wolves that had chased him through the woods are now happily snuggling against him now. 

“What the fuck?” Stiles yelps as he leaps from the bed. The blankets tangle his feet, ending with Stiles flailing and ending up in a heap on the ground. He quickly slides back until his back hits the wall. 

The three wolves all raise their heads and look at him with confusion. Like somehow he’s the crazy one for trying to get away from them. The blonde one makes a small whining noise, begging Stiles to come back to the bed. 

“Are you going to eat me?” he asks because why not act like this isn’t the craziest thing he’s ever experienced. And somehow, the wolves all understand him. They shake their heads. Honest to god, shake their wolfie heads at him. 

Stiles slowly stands up, face red when he realizes he’s in nothing but his batman boxers. He makes his way to the bed, hand outstretched towards the wolves, praying they aren’t just leading him close before using him as a snack. 

“Please don’t eat me,” Stiles whispers before sitting down on the bed. All three wolves move, pushing him down on the bed and essentially making a giant puppy pile with Stiles at the bottom. He lets out a startled laugh before wrapping his arms around them. 

In Stiles’ head, he knows this should be crazy, yet he feels so safe with them snuggled up against him. “I guess you guys aren’t too bad,” he murmurs. The dark wolf lets out a huff before licking the blonde, shaggy wolf. They nuzzle together and Stiles wonders if they’re like a thing. Do wolves even have mates?

He’s brought out of his inner musings by a roar somewhere in the house. The sound leaves his body tense and his heart racing. All of the wolves react, jumping off of Stiles and cowering. The largest dark colored one stands in front of the other two, eyes trained on the open door. 

Stiles’ heart picks up as he hears footsteps walking towards his door. As the figure grows closer, Stiles settles his breathing, listening for any clues he might pick up. Clicking indicates the growly creature has claws. He can tell it walks on two feet rather than four. It’s growling makes Stiles believe it’s not human yet not quite wolf. 

The blonde short haired wolf lets out a little whimper, belly all the way down against the floor. Protectiveness fills Stiles’ chest and before he can think better of it, he squares his shoulders facing the door. 

The growling stops as a large beast steps into the room. Stiles’ belly fills with dread as large, red eyes peer down at him. The thing is a true monster, a beast. It’s feet are like those of a wolf, standing up on its haunches. His body is covered in thick black fur. His face is distorted to something not quite human but not quite wolf. He has a snout with long, sharp teeth pointing out. Yet, when Stiles looks into its eyes, he knows the beast is intelligent. More human than monster. 

The beast lets out a growly bark directed at the wolves behind Stiles. They each let out an answering sound. When they don’t move, the beast narrows his eyes before letting out a terrifyingly loud howl. 

“Fuck,” Stiles grits out through clenched teeth as his hands cover his ears. Before rational thought sinks in, Stiles is moving. He steps into the beast’s space, looking up into his freaky red eyes. “Are you serious right now? There’s no need to be howling in the house when there’s a human present! That really hurt my ears, dude!”

The beast raises its lip in a silent snarl but Stiles isn’t having any of that. He snaps his wrist, bringing his hand down against the beast’s wolfish nose like he’s teaching an unruly mut a lesson. The beast takes a step back, shaking its head at Stiles. He lets out a little huff and if Stiles didn’t know any better, he’d say the beast looked offended. 

“You heard me,” Stiles says, pointing his finger up into the beast’s face, which isn’t easy as its almost two heads taller than Stiles. “You might have literally been raised by wolves but when there’s a human around you should really work on your manners.”

One of the wolves behind him lets out a huff that reminds Stiles of amusement and he can’t help but smile. His smile must make the beast mad because the hair on its back raises. Stiles is face to face with its mouth as it opens, revealing all those terrifyingly sharp teeth. 

“Hey, hey, hey. What did I say about manners?” Stiles whispers as he takes a shaky step backwards. The beast lets out a roar that shakes Stiles all the way down to his bones. It was nice to live long enough to meet a bunch of monsters only to be eaten by one of them. He scrunches his eyes shut except nothing happens. 

When he finally opens them again, he finds the three wolves now in front of him. They have their backs to Stiles as they snarl at the beast. The beast stops and looks at each one of them before taking his giant clawed hands and putting them on his hips. He tilts his head like he’s asking them a question and when no one moves, he crosses his arms across his chest. He lets out an irritated growl that has Stiles’ hair on the back of his neck raising before storming out. 

Stiles lets out a sigh. His body feels wrung out after the altercation but he can’t sit here and wait things out. He needs to be on his way. 

“Not that I’m not grateful for what you guys have done but I need to get the fuck out of here,” Stiles murmurs to the wolves as he puts his clothes back on. The one with the short blonde fur nudges him with his nose and Stiles takes a moment to pet his head. “I’m sorry but I have to go. That thing,” Stiles pauses when all three wolves let out a little growl. “Fine. He obviously doesn’t want me here. And I’d rather not get eaten anytime soon.” 

The dark wolf rolls his eyes. Literally, rolls his wolfie eyes at Stiles. “I’m serious!” he cries, as he shoves his hands into his gloves. “The sooner I’m out of here, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair, err, fur and the sooner you can all go back to normal life.” The long haired blonde lets out a little whimper, bumping her head against Stiles’ thigh. His chest constricts at the thought of leaving this little pack and he’s not sure why. They chased him down in the woods and now he’s all sappy just because they had a little snuggle pile? 

Stiles makes his way to the front door. Looking out the window he sees the snow coming down in heaps. “Shit. I hope I can make it back to the jeep.” He goes to open the door, only to have a large, freaky looking hand push it back shut from over his shoulder. 

Stiles freezes, his body tensing. From behind him, Stiles hears a grutteral word muttered. “No.”

He slowly turns around and comes face to, well, chest with the beast. “You can’t tell me no,” Stiles says, looking up into the red eyes. 

“No,” he grits out for a second time. His shoulders are square like he’s just daring Stiles to argue with him. 

Stiles looks out the window, biting his bottom lip. “Are you seriously going to hold me here against my will?”

The beast looks down at the floor, the breath leaving him in one long exhale. He looks back into Stiles’ eyes and Stiles’ chest clenches. It’s almost like the beast is willing Stiles to understand. But he doesn’t. 

“I’m going now,” Stiles whispers as he slowly opens the door. The beast gives the smallest nod, sadness plain in his actions as he walks back up the stairs and away from Stiles, his shoulders slumped. 

As Stiles closes the door behind him, he can’t stop himself from giving the beast one last look before being on his way.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and snow don't mix. But Stiles and the Beast's dick? That's a match made in Heaven.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stiles murmurs to himself. His teeth chatter painfully and his body shakes in an attempt to warm itself. He continues forward because at this point, it’s the only thing he can do. Picking up one foot from the deep, heavy snow and putting it in front of the other. 

Stiles’ legs and feet and hands and face are all numb. His eyes are barely open as the wind whips against his face. He should have listened to the damn wolf man and stayed at the house where he’d be warm and snuggled up with some ridiculously smart wolves. But no, he just had to leave right then and there. Fuck. He’s so stupid!

Stiles thinks about the wolves and the beast as he treks forward so he doesn’t think about how his fingers and toes are probably going to fall off from how frozen they are. That beast had been gruesome to look at but Stiles could tell he wasn’t evil, wasn’t a monster. He’d even tried to keep Stiles safe. And what the hell was up with those wolves? How were they so fucking smart? A niggling thought plays at the back of Stiles’ mind but before he can think about it further, Stiles slips. 

His yelp of surprise rings through the stormy air as Stiles slides down. He tries to correct himself only to trip over his own feet. His body falls forward but instead of hitting the ground, Stiles slides down the side of a hill. As he picks up speed, he tumbles and rolls, bouncing off a tree on the way down. At the bottom of the hill, he lays on his back in the snow. His legs are numb and he’s unable to get up or move.

Stiles lets out a groan as his eyes close. Snow continues to fall all around him. He wonders how he survived meeting wolves and monsters only to die because of the snow. Stiles swears he hears someone or something coming close to him but he doesn’t have the strength to open his eyes again. His body feels like it’s floating. Stiles lets out a sigh, deciding to allow the blissful feeling of nothingness consume him. 

~~~

Stiles tries to open his eyes but can’t. The winds have picked up, kicking snow up against his face. He’s not sure what’s happening but he can tell he’s moving. He tries to move his hands to feel what’s going on, only to get a fist full of fur. There’s a rumble where his face lies and it soothes him back into the darkness. 

~~~

Stiles’ body aches when he wakes up again. Nothing feels right and he doesn’t know where he is. Someone helps him out of his jacket and shirt. Stiles tries to fight the person off, flailing his limbs in an uncoordinated fashion. His arm hits a broad strong chest before a growl makes him freeze. His brain is so foggy. He tries to fight against it as the person continues to undress him but the moment they tuck the blankets around his naked body and warmth begins to engulf him, Stiles slowly drifts back to sleep. 

~~~

Large arms tighten around Stiles’ middle as he slowly begins to wake up. He’s still half asleep but awake enough to take stock of his body. He’s sore all over but he’s okay. The breathing behind him is steady and deep, clearly sleeping as they snuggle against Stiles. 

Instead of freaking out, Stiles lays back and relaxes, reveling in the feeling of closeness and warmth. Those arms feel so good around him. The fur against his back lets him know it’s the beast holding him but he’s not afraid. Confused? Fuck yeah. Scared? Not so much. 

Stiles lets out a small sigh before pushing himself back, wiggling himself even closer. The creature behind him lets out a gruff groan, wiggling his hips right back at Stiles. Things begin to heat up in the room as Stiles feels something against his back. It’s thick and long and hot. It only takes a moment before he realizes it’s the beast’s cock. 

Stiles stomach flips. On the one hand this is so wrong on so many levels. The creature is obviously not human but at the same time, this is so taboo, so exotic that Stiles can’t help but be affected. The member burns against his skin and Stiles shudders. Ever so gently, he rocks his hips back, loving how it feels as the cock slides through his crack. 

Fuck.This is so wrong but feels so good. Stiles’ dick begins to plump up, his skin prickling with goosebumps. Those strong arms hold him tight and Stiles feels safe and warm. Letting out a content sigh, he very slowly turns around. 

Stiles looks over the beast’s face, taking in every detail. He’s startled to realize the creature looks different, more human almost. It’s small things. His mouth looks more human rather than a full wolf snout. Stiles’ hand comes up, gently touching the beast’s chest. There’s less fur everywhere. With Stiles’ rapid imagination, he can almost see the human behind the wolf form. 

With his fingers buried in the creature’s chest hair, Stiles grows bold. He thrusts his hips forward, gasping as his cock slides against the beast’s. Lighting shoots up his spin and he bites his lips to keep himself from whimpering. 

Stiles freezes as the beast tenses, his breathing changing as he begins to wake up. His eyes open and Stiles lets out a gasp. Instead of those intense red eyes, he stares into the most gorgeous greenish grey eyes he’s ever seen. They’re so fucking human. 

“Hi,” Stiles whispers, his voice coming out raspy and sore. His hands slowly comes up, touching the beast’s cheek. 

The beast’s nostrils flair. Stiles can’t stop himself because he has absolutely no self control or self preservation. He gently pushes his hips forward once more, grazing his dick against the creature’s. It’s just so warm against his own and pleasure courses through his body. Unfortunately, the beast must not think so because he lets out a growl, recoiling and rolling out of the bed. 

He lets out a bark as he opens the door to the bedroom and the two blonde wolves run into the room and jump onto the bed by Stiles. He stares after the beast as he stomps his way down the hall, away from Stiles. 

“Well then,” Stiles murmurs to himself, burying his hands into the wolves’ fur. “Is he always such a Sourwolf?”

Both wolves huff in agreement.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles meets Boyd, finds a library, and unsurprisingly, can’t keep his curiosity in check.

A plastic bag smacks against Stiles’ face and he startles. Flailing his limbs, he manages to kick both wolves and throw the bag across the room. “What the hell?” A snort sounds from the doorway and Stiles sits straight up, staring at the man there. “What? Who? Dude!” Stiles yells before pulling the blankets over his chest like a scandalized damsel. 

The dark skinned man rolls his eyes before walking into the room and placing a tray of food into Stiles’ lap. Stiles stares with his mouth wide as the man picks up the plastic bag and tosses it on the bed beside him before making his way back towards the door. 

“Wait! Who the hell are you?”

The guy stops, turning around and crossing his arms across his chest. “Boyd.”

Stiles waits for him to say more but when he just stares at Stiles, Stiles lets out a huff of frustration. “Why are you here?” Boyd shrugs. “Dude, come on! Give me something here.”

Stiles tears the piece of toast on the tray as he waits for Boyd to answer. “What do you wanna know exactly?”

“Umm… Everything!”

“Specifically,” Boyd says. 

“Fine. How did you get here? That storm is crazy right now,” Stiles says, nodding towards the window where snow continues to blow around. 

“I’ve always been here.”

“Stop being so fucking cryptic!”

The long haired blonde wolf huffs at Stiles, bumping her nose against his cheek before getting up and walking towards Boyd. He squats down, petting the wolf before nuzzling against her face. “Don’t worry, Erica. It’s only a matter of time.”

“So you know their names?” Stiles asks, nodding towards both blonde wolves. 

“Of course. They’re my pack mates.”

Stiles stares at Boyd, little things beginning to click into place. “Wait, wait, wait.” Stiles runs his fingers through his hair, biting his bottom lip. “Dude. No.” His eyes flit back between the blonde wolves before landing on Boyd. “Where’s the other wolf that’s been hanging around?”

Boyd’s lip tick up slightly, nodding his head. 

“Holy fuck. You’re the other wolf? What the hell is going on? How is this real?”

Boyd shrugs before patting Erica one last time and turning towards the door. “Boyd, wait! What’s everyone else’s name?”

Boyd nods towards the wolf still snuggled up at Stiles’ side. “That’s Isaac.”

“And the Sourwolf?”

“Derek.”

~~~

After kicking the wolves out of his room, Stiles checks out the plastic bag. His chest flutters when he finds clean clothes for him to wear. Sweatpants and a comfy henley. When the maroon long sleeve is on, Stiles takes a moment to pull the collar up to his nose. His stomach clenching with the thought of these once belonging to Derek. Wearing his clothes just does things to Stiles. 

Being in this room alone is making Stiles antsy so he decides to venture into the house. He walks through the halls until he finds something that catches his attention, a library. 

Walls and walls of books. Stiles smiles wide as he looks around, running his fingers over the spins of random books. He could see himself getting lost in a place like this, running down rabbit hole after rabbit hole. 

There’s a couch with a small coffee table in the center and Stiles sits down. Seeing a book open on the coffee table, his curiosity gets the better of him. He pulls the book into his lap, touching the pages reverently as the words begin to jump up at him. 

Stiles’ heart speeds up as he begins to read, realizing this isn’t an average book but a handwritten journal. Stiles quietly whispers the words out loud as he reads. 

“She was truly evil, I know that now. Kate said she loved me but all she wanted to do was destroy my family and my pack. Even now my body feels twisted and wrong. Every day my transformation makes me more of a monster. Part of me feels like my outside is finally matching the monster inside me but then again, that’s what Kate wanted me to think. It’s hard to remember I’m still human, that I still possess humanity when my form twists darker. Everyday I look in the mirror and everyday something else is unrecognizable. The hatred I feel for myself grows along with my fur and my fangs and my other wolfy features. Soon I’ll be unrecognizable.”

Stiles rubs his eyes as he feels them prickle with unshed tears. The hurt he feels for this man is all consuming. His heart longs to reach out and hug him, make things okay but he knows he can’t. 

“If this was only about me I wouldn’t care. I can deal with hating myself. I can deal with the isolation. But now I have my pack to worry about. The more I turn into this monster, the more they change as well. Boyd is now a full wolf. It won’t be long until Isaac and Erica turn as well. I’m supposed to be the alpha, the one who takes care of the pack but I’m helpless. This curse is all consuming and there’s nothing I can do to change things. All I can do is hope, even as little as that will do me because I know the truth. Breaking this curse will be impossible.”

Stiles readjusts himself, pulling his knees under himself, curling up into the sofa. His heart beats quickly as he reads further. 

“I’ve resigned to my fate, knowing no one could truly break this curse. This curse is tied to the nemeton and even if I wanted my fate to be another, I’ll take this punishment to keep this place safe. The nemeton cannot be allowed to thrive. I don’t have much to worry about either way as I know the curse will never be lifted. No one could ever look at me and--”

Stiles jerks as a growl sounds from the doorway. The journal flies from his hands as he jumps up from his seat. The beast, Derek, stands in the doorway, staring at Stiles with wide eyes. Stiles’ hands shake as they stare at one another, wondering if his end is finally here. And worst yet, what the hell was the journal about to tell him? How can the curse be broken?

Before he can do anything more, Derek strides into the room towards Stiles. 

Stile lifts his hands and whispers, “no hard feelings. Right, dude?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek 'chat' while Stiles meets the Nemeton.

“Don’t call me dude,” Derek says, his voice slurred by his fangs. The gravelly voice caresses Stiles’ skin, causing him to shudder. 

“Fine,” Stiles answers, plopping back down on the sofa. He watches as Derek walks around the library, looking at all the books Stiles touched. He can’t help but notice how Derek’s changed yet again since the last time they saw one another. His fingers are more human like, less clawed. His feet look more human too. When Derek looks over his shoulder at Stiles, Stiles sucks in a sharp breath. Those intense, greenish grey eyes stare at him and it’s like Stiles just can’t look away. What is it about this wolfman that has Stiles feeling so out of sorts, so fucking drawn?

Stiles clears his throat and Derek looks away. He mourns the loss of their contact but shoves the disappointment down. “I met Boyd today. Not much of a talker that one. But that’s alright, I talk enough for the both of us. Well, for all of us if I’m being honest. I tend to ramble, especially when I’m nervous.”

Derek looks back over at Stiles and Stiles swears he sees a smirk on his face. That face which Stiles can determinedly see the man behind more and more. It’s not his imagination or wishful thinking, he really can see Derek. 

“Thank for the clothes, by the way,” Stiles murmurs, looking down at his shirt sleeves. His belly does a little jolt of pleasure when he notices the henley has little thumb holes which he promptly uses. When he looks back up, Derek is giving him a look that shoots a lustful burn into his belly. Stiles can’t interpret the look fully because Derek quickly looks away again but if Stiles was a betting man, he’d guess Derek likes the fact that he’s wearing Derek’s clothes right now. Fuck, that thought should not have his dick jolting to attention but it does. 

Derek walks over to the single window in the library, staring out at the still falling snow. Stiles can’t take it anymore. Can’t take the silence, the mystery, the stillness. He slowly gets up and makes his way over to Derek, standing right next to him. 

Stiles squints out the window, noticing a large tree in the middle of the backyard. It’s black and wilted. As Stiles stares, he gets a sinking feeling in his belly and the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. The longer Stiles stares, the more sick in the pit of his stomach he feels and the more small details he notices. Sure the thing looks completely dead but there’s small leaves and twigs sticking out of the tree that seems to be coming back to life. 

“What is that?” Stiles asks, his voice no louder than a whisper. His hand comes up, touching the cold glass, his eyes never leaving the tree. 

“The nemeton,” Derek answers, his voice so low and growly. It snaps Stiles out of the daze he’s fallen into. His eyes move from the tree over to Derek to find the beast staring down at Stiles, his eyes blazing with intensity. 

Stiles turns his back to the tree, leaning his butt against the windowsill. His heart slowly comes back down which he hadn’t even noticed was racing until right now. What the fuck is going on around here? Even though questions race through his mind, Stiles knows he’s meant to be here. He has a purpose here. 

Without thinking, Stiles reaches out to Derek, placing his hand against Derek’s forearm. Derek freezes, his eyes going wide. “Derek,” Stiles whispers as his heart picks up once more, this time for a very different reason than fear. 

Derek’s nostrils flair, his intense gaze overwhelming Stiles. His dick slowly begins to chub at how close they are, practically breathing in each other’s air. This moment feels so precious, so rare that Stiles is afraid to even breathe wrong and shatter it. 

Suddenly, Derek pulls away, shaking his head. Stiles hides his disappointment as best as he can. On his way to the door, Derek grabs his journal and tucks it under his arm. 

“Derek, wait.”

Derek pauses, his back still to Stiles. Stiles gets distracted for one second at the sight of Derek’s gorgeous back and unclothed ass before he shakes himself back to seriousness. “I know you’re cursed.”

Derek’s back stiffens and Stiles curses himself. Why does his brain to mouth filter have to constantly be broken? “I just-”

Stiles is cut off by Derek’s growl, red eyes shining at him as Derek turns around. Stiles can practically feel Derek’s anger surrounding him in the library like a tangible thing. Fuck. This shouldn’t be turning him on, right? 

“Derek, talk to me. Maybe I can help!”

One of Derek’s hands grabs Stiles’ arm just below his shoulder. It’s so tight that Stiles’ lets out a yelp. “You. Can’t. Help.” Derek grits out through clenched fangs. He takes in a deep breath before letting go of Stiles. His eyes slowly fade back to green and his face turns sad, breaking Stiles heart. God, he feels so helpless. Derek turns back towards the door. Right before he leaves, he whispers, “no one can.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles feeds The pack while wishing they were HIS pack.

Stiles wishes he could stay and explore the library further but everytime he looks through the window, the Nemeton stands there, eerily mocking him. His stomach clenches with unease and his chest feels funny, like the Nemeton is trying to draw him in. He can’t take it anymore. 

Wandering through the house, Stiles’ stomach grumbles and he knows exactly where he wants to go. He easily finds the stairs and once on the ground floor, goes looking for the kitchen. 

“Hey pup,” Stiles murmurs as Isaac bumps into his leg. He reaches down and pets the wolf’s head as they walk. Isaac helps lead him to the kitchen where Stiles rummages through the fridge and pantry. If he’s going to be stuck here, he might as well make himself comfortable. 

“Hmm,” Stiles hums. “I’m thinking omelets.”

As he takes out everything he’ll need, Stiles picks up the landline (who even has a landline anymore!) and dials his dad. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Dad. It’s me.”

“Stiles? Where are you?”

Stiles picks at his fingers as he answers his dad. “I’m staying at a friend’s house. We’re completely snowed in and probably won’t be able to leave for another few days.”

“I’ve been trying to call you, Stiles.”

“My phone got lost in the snow when I tried to leave.”

His Dad lets out a sigh that Stiles knows all too well. “Well be safe, son.”

“Yeah, Dad. You too.”

“Always.”

With that out of the way, Stiles worries about making the pack some dinner. Sure, omelets are usually what’s for breakfast but they sound good. Sue him. 

Isaac and Erica follow him around the kitchen, each of them with their head leaned against his thighs. It’s a pain when he needs to move around the kitchen but the connection makes him feel good, makes him feel included and needed. 

Boyd shows up just as Stiles is pulling an omelet off the stove. “Order up,” he says, sliding a plate in front of Boyd. Boyd gives him an intense, strange look that Stiles can’t really interpret before his lips tick up ever so slightly. 

“Thank you,” he whispers before digging in.

“Umm. What should I make them,” Stiles asks, nodding towards Isaac and Erica. 

Boyd gives him an unimpressed look. “Same thing. Just put it on a plate and then put it on the ground for them.”

“Yeah. Right.” Stiles turns back to the stove, getting to work. “It’s not like they’d eat dog food or something,” he murmurs to himself. Obviously not low enough because both Isaac and Erica nip at his hip. “Hey! I’m cooking you food. Don’t eat me!”

Boyd snickers before turning serious, his face turning towards the kitchen doorway. Stiles flips the eggs, his heart hammering in his chest. He tries to stay focused on cooking but he can’t. Not with Derek in the same room. Finally, Stiles can’t take it anymore, he turns and looks at him. 

Stiles bites down on his bottom lip, stopping himself from letting out a gasp. Or worse, a moan. Derek’s changed even more and Stiles’ chest warms. Fuck. How can these feelings be happening so fast? Stiles’ eyes widen in surprise when he looks Derek over, finding him in cut off sweat shorts instead of naked. When his eyes land on Derek’s chest, he notices the fur there looks more like untamed chest hair rather than fur. 

“You’re gonna burn those,” Boyd murmurs from his seat at the kitchen island. Stiles jerks around, his cheeks flaming with embarrassment at having been caught staring, again. He carefully removes the omelets from the stove and shoves them onto two separate plates. Placing them on the floor, Isaac and Erica devour their meals. Watching the pack eat, knowing he was the one to provide for them does funny things to Stiles’ chest. He feels pride but also a longing. He wants this to be permanent. He wants to always be here to take care of this pack. He wants this to be  _ his _ pack. And shit, where the hell did that thought come from?

Stiles shakes his head, going back to making food. “What do you want on yours?” he asks, looking over at Derek. 

“You don’t have to cook for me.”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.” Derek shakes his head, his face pinched as he watches Stiles. “Stop being such a Sourwolf.”

Derek lets out an annoyed huff. “It’s not your job to cook for the pack,” Derek grits out. 

Stiles freezes. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re not even part of this pack. I don’t even know your name,” Derek says, anger starting to lace his voice. Stiles doesn’t understand what’s happening. 

“Stiles.”

“What’s a stiles?” Boyd murmurs from his seat, breaking Stiles and Derek from their stare off. 

“My name. And I’m making everyone food because I can. You can’t tell me what to do, Derek. So stop being such an ass and tell me what you want on your omelet.” Derek lets out a growl before turning away. “Fine. Go ahead and starve for all I care!” Stiles yells after him. 

“You’re the only one who’s ever gotten away with yelling at him,” Boyd muses as he finishes eating. 

“Whatever,” Stiles whispers. He turns away to hide his smile. Stiles quickly whips up two more plates of food. Sliding one over to Boyd he says, “go give this to the alpha, please.”

Boyd raises his eyebrow and Stiles just shrugs. He’s not going to  _ actually _ leave the poor guy to starve. 

After eating, he ushers Isaac, Erica, and Boyd into the living room. He plops down, eyeing the beta’s expectantly. Boyd rolls his eyes before sitting right next to Stiles. Erica jumps onto Boyd’s lap, leaving her head in Stiles’ lap. Isaac lays against Stiles side with his head right next to Erica’s. Stiles eventually lays his head against Boyd’s shoulder. 

If this is what a puppy pile feels like then Stiles isn’t sure why he hasn’t been doing them before now. He’s not sure he’s ever felt so at peace than he does right now. His mind, which normally races from subject to subject, feels blissfully quiet. They watch a movie, all snuggled up together, his chest warm and happy and tugging with something unnameable. Even with this new pack closeness, Stiles can’t help but feel a longing in his heart. This puppy pile has a giant Derek shaped hole in it. He wishes he could convince Derek to just accept him already because now that Stiles is here, it’s gonna be a hell of a fight to drag him away. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adorably sleepy Stiles chats with an unamused Derek. Plus a dream sequence that leaves Stiles filled with longing.

Stiles isn’t sure when he fell asleep. The last thing he remembers is snuggling between the pack, feeling warm and content and safe. He drifts in and out of sleep as they all watch the movie until he just can’t keep his lids open any longer. 

He’s not sure how much time passes but he’s brought back to the land of the living as someone picks him up from the couch. Stiles lets out a jaw cracking yawn as he’s gently lawled back to sleep by the small rocking motions those strong arms make as the person walks. Stiles lets out a little whine as he tucks him face against the person’s throat. 

“Derek,” he murmurs as his lips press gently against Derek’s throat. Derek lets out a small growl as his arms tighten around Stiles. Stiles can’t tell if it’s because he’d rather Stiles not touch his throat or if he’s encouraging Stiles to do more. He’s too sleepy to decipher growls at the moment so he does what feels best. Rubbing his nose, then his cheeks against Derek’s thoat, all the way up the side of his neck. 

“You’re such a good alpha,” Stiles whispers, wondering if maybe this is just a dream. His hand comes up and runs through Derek’s chest fur, hair, whatever. He likes how that feels. “You take such good care of our puppies. Keep them in line.”

He lets out another yawn, burrowing deeper against Derek’s neck. He tilts his head against Derek’s shoulder so his nose can rest against Derek’s throat as they move through the house. 

“I’m so glad our puppies chased me here. They were so naughty at first but now I love them.” Derek lets out a huff, his hot breath tickling the top of Stiles’ hair. He feels his face split with a smile where it’s pressed against Derek’s skin. 

“We smell so similar right now,” Stiles murmurs. Derek lets out a choked off noise that Stiles’ sleepy brain can’t decipher. “Want us to smell the same all the time,” Stiles whispers before doing what feels right in the moment. He licks across the part of Derek’s neck he can reach. He’s not even sure why he did it, only that now Derek smells better. “Perfect.”

“You’re something,” Derek murmurs. Pride fills Stiles’ belly. He sure is. 

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t get used to it.”

Stiles’ hand digs harder into Derek’s chest, feeling the muscles there. Fuck. All his overtired brain wants to do is get them somewhere private so he can feel every single one of Derek’s muscles, pet through all of his fur, lick him all over and make him smell like Stiles. His cock begins to fill. He tries to thrust his hips, only for two strong arms to tighten around him, making him unable to move. Where the fuck is he, anyway?

Stiles tries to open his eyes and look around but he’s just too tired, too warm. He feels so safe. “You make me feel so safe.”

Derek stops for a moment, freezing in place before clearing his throat and continuing forward. Stiles adjusts slightly, throwing his arm around Derek’s neck and petting the hair he finds there. He makes a noise of approval when Derek just lets him do as he wants. “Such a good boy.”

“Not a dog,” Derek murmurs but Stiles can tell he’s not mad. Since when is he so attuned to Derek’s murmurs? 

“I know you’re not a dog, you ass.” Stiles licks his lips before adding with a giggle, “never wanted to fuck a dog.”

Derek lets out a pained groan. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Hmm,” Stiles sleepily hums. “I think I can. Since I just did.”

Derek mumbles something as he nuzzles the top of Stiles’ head. Stiles smiles against Derek’s shoulder. “I like you, Big Guy. Never change.”

Derek gently places Stiles down on his bed. Stiles lets out a needy sound, his hands gripping Derek’s wrists tight. “What?” Derek asks, his voice gruff. Instead of scaring Stiles, it only makes him smile wider. 

“Please don’t go.”

“Stiles.”

“Please,” Stiles whines. 

Derek lets out a huff and rolls his eyes. Stiles does a happy little wiggle as he moves over, sleep already beginning to take him. He wraps his arm around Derek’s middle and finds a comfortable place for his head on Derek’s chest. “Perfect.”

Stiles closes his eyes and begins to drift. He revels in the feel of Derek’s strong arms around him and the warm puffs of breaths against the top of his head. Stiles can’t help himself. It’s like his brain is on autopilot as he sits up and gives Derek a light kiss against his mouth before snuggling back down against his hairy chest. He could get used to this, he thinks as he drifts to sleep. 

***

“Come here, baby,” Derek purs as he pulls Stiles down onto his lap. Stiles grins against Derek’s lips as the alpha kisses him. That grin stays plastered as Derek kisses each of his cheeks, then his chin, then very softly on the nose. 

Stiles pushes Derek back against the couch, taking control. He mouths at Derek’s throat, reveling in the feeling of power it brings him, knowing he’s the only one to touch Derek here. Derek’s fingers dig into his hips, moving Stiles until his ass is grinding against Derek’s hard dick. 

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek groans. Stiles breaks away from Derek’s throat with a gasp. He wants to be naked, wants to feel his mate so bad. Fuck. Derek rubs his stubbled chin against Stiles’ neck, marking him. 

“Yeah, Derek. Mark me, Alpha.”

Derek lets out a growl, his eyes flashing red and Stiles can feel his own eyes flash right back. Stiles lets out a shaky breath as Derek’s mouth descends. He works the skin between this teeth, sucking hard. Stiles’ whimpers as his cock continues to leak inside his pants. He grinds down, loving the feel of Derek under him. God, he wants that dick inside him. 

Stiles fingers start to work at getting Derek’s pants open when someone lets out a groan behind him. Stiles and Derek both freeze. 

“Oh my god,” Isaac groans, throwing himself into the armchair, covering his eyes dramatically. 

“It’s like watching your parents have sex. Gross,” Erica adds as she pushes Boyd down on the other side of the couch before sitting in his lap. “I do not need to see that!”

Stiles rolls his eyes, sighing dramatically as he readjusts his position, sitting sideways in Derek’s lap so his feet can slide under Boyd’s thigh. “You’re all such cockblocks.”

“It stinks in here now,” Boyd murmurs, rubbing his nose against Erica’s hair, no doubt trying to only smell her rather than Derek and Stiles’ combined lustful scents. 

“It’s not that bad,” Derek insists but Stiles can see how the tips of his ears turn red with embarrassment at having been caught. 

Stiles runs his thumb over Derek’s very human cheekbone that’s devoid of bushy sideburns. Stiles’ brow furrows as he continues to stare. “Something’s not right.”

His eyes dart over to the wolves who are all very much human as well. That feeling of happiness and contentment are suddenly replaced with dread. “What’s going on? I-” Stiles stutters. “I don’t know what you look like.”

“Baby, what’s wrong?”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head, his hands beginning to shake where they’re wrapped up in the front of Derek’s shirt. “This isn’t right. As much as I desperately want this to be real. It’s not.” Derek’s hands cover his as their eyes meet. “This is a dream. Isn’t it?” Derek nods his head before everything starts getting fuzzy. Before everything fades away fully, Stiles leans forward, knowing this might be his only chance, and gives this dream Derek one last kiss. 

When Stiles is fully awake, he touches his cheeks and feels that they’re wet with tears. His chest aches because he wants that scene to be real so fucking desperately. He wants to be wanted and needed and part of this pack, this family. But it was only a dream. “Shit,” he murmurs to himself. He turns over and finds his bed empty.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles might wake up alone but at least he has his inner musings.

Stiles lays in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His breathing shallow and shaky as he tries to get control of himself. Fuck. What the hell is going on with him? He spends a few nights with a pack of wolves and suddenly he wants to be part of their pack? He doesn’t even know them for fucks sake!

Stiles turns over, pulling Derek’s pillow into his chest, holding it tight. If he buries his nose in it to smell whatever scent Derek’s left behind? Well, no one’s around to judge him. He sighs. The problem is he does know them. At least enough to feel connected with them. To feel like he’s a part of all of this. 

Stiles grips the pillow tightly before throwing it to the side and sitting up. He rubs his eyes, trying to wipe the sleep and left over tears away. When did things get so fucking complicated? Probably about the same time he started developing feelings for the grumpy wolfie dude. How is this his life?

Stiles stands up, stretching his arms above his head. When he opens his eyes again, they land on something on top of the dresser. He strolls over slowly, tilting his head when he comes to a stop in front of it. There’s a plate of toast and fruit next to a pile of books and a new set of clothes. 

Butterflies breakout in Stiles’ belly. With a wide smile on his face, Stiles changes into the new clothes. He buries his nose in the collar, greedily taking in the scent of Derek again. His stomach does a happy little flip at wearing Derek’s clothes. He’d chastise himself but really, there’s no use. He’s so far gone on the wolfman it’s not even funny anymore. 

Stiles takes the bowl of fruit over to the window, watching as a few snowflakes fly around. They’re actually kinda pretty. As the sweet taste of the fruit explodes against his tongue, Stiles admits the one thing he’s been trying to shove away since coming here. He has feelings. Stiles has real feelings for Derek but he also feels a belonging to this house, to the pack, and strangely, he even feels a connection to the nemeton. 

It’s almost like something clicks inside him. And as it clicks, he watches as the snow slowly stops, the clouds seem to literally part, and the sun begins to shine down on him, warm against his skin. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, “that wasn’t fucking creepy at all.”

Turning away from the window once his fruit is gone, Stiles gently caress the books left for him. They look old, no doubt containing all sorts of wisdom and knowledge. Taking the one on top, Stiles lays it on the bed, sitting with his legs crossed beneath him. 

He engrosses himself with the words in front of him. He learns about betas and how they’re tied to their alpha. He learns about wolf transformations. He learns about wolves who don’t have a pack and become omegas. 

“An alpha and their mate are the head of their pack. An alpha’s mate is rare as not everyone is compatible with a wolf, and not everyone has a spark inside them.”

Stiles stares at the words, willing them to make more sense. He flips through the pages of the book until he finds more about sparks. 

“A spark can manifest itself in many ways. For an alpha, it comes in the form of power, healing, strength and of course, their red eyes. It’s what makes them the alpha. In a human, it would be some form of supernatural power such as magic. The only way an alpha could make a true bond is if the other partner had some form of spark inside of them.”

Stiles head spins as he reads the words. Instead of feeling disappointed in the face of being told he could never be Derek’s mate, rightness sings through his veins. A cold sweat breaks out across his back and forehead. His hands shake as he turns back, reading more. 

“Most times, the spark inside an alpha and their mate will reach out to each other, calling the two partners together.”

Stiles runs his hands over his thighs, trying to wipe the sweat from them. Is that this feeling he has inside his chest? Could this really be his life?

“Oh my god,” he murmurs to himself. Closing his eyes, Stiles concentrates on that feeling. He thinks about the pack, about the betas, and ultimately, he thinks about Derek. Stiles lets out a gasp as he feels a slight tug, almost like someone’s urging him forward, urging him to follow that feeling. 

Stiles levels his breathing as he focuses on that bond. It’s almost like a tether or a rope. Stiles reaches out slowly, determined to touch the bond. Right now it’s so small, barely even there. Almost like he needs to work on fortifying it, strengthen it. 

But before he can touch it, the wind howls outside his window, startling his eyes open again. Shaking his head, Stiles goes back to reading. His stomach clenches when he sees the nemeton mentioned. 

“The nemeton is a powerful tree. In some cultures, the nemeton is a deity, worshipped for its powers. In Northern America, it’s rare to find a nemeton but almost always, they are tied to a pack family. It’s power relies on the bond it shares with an alpha and the alpha’s mate. If there is discord between the alpha and their mate, there is discord with the nemeton.”

Stiles’ stomach sinks, thinking about the nemeton and how dead it had looked, how it’s power was reaching out for Stiles. Could this all really be real? Could Stiles really stay and be a part of this family, this pack, that he’s slowly grown to love. Yeah. He said it, even if it’s only in his head. He loves being here, loves the pack, loves-

A knocking at his door pulls Stiles from his thoughts. “Come in,” he says, closing his book and placing it on the bedside table. Boyd walks in holding a tray of food, Derek, Erica, and a tall blonde haired boy follows. 

“You haven’t come out of your room all morning,” Derek says gruffly, plopping himself down in the chair in the corner of the room. “The betas were worried about you.”

Stiles’ stomach growls, indicating just how hungry he is. He was so immersed in what he was reading he hadn’t noticed how long he was locked away in his room. Stiles would gladly focus on the food but his eyes haven’t been able to leave the blonde haired man in the room. “Isaac?” Stiles asks, his eyes wide when the bond inside him sings, letting him know he was right. This is Isaac. In human flesh. 

Isaac’s face breaks into a blinding smile as he sits down on the floor beside Derek, leaning against Derek’s leg. “It’s nice to meet you officially, Stiles.”

“Holy shit. You’re human. That’s so awesome, man.”

Derek rolls his eyes, even though there’s something soft, almost like fondness there. He ruffles Isaac’s hair, the gesture bringing a smile to both of their faces. 

Boyd places the tray of food on his lap before sitting on the side of the bed. Erica hops up, laying against Stiles’ other side. He runs his fingers through her fur as she nuzzles against his belly. Now that Stiles knows what that tugging is inside his chest, he can recognize them. His pack. 

Fuck. He’s in so deep there’s no coming out. Not even if he wanted to. Which, of course, he doesn’t. 

Everything feels so sure and safe inside his heart but his brain feels scattered and frayed. He can’t think, can’t concentrate. 

“Stiles,” Derek says, his rough voice pulling Stiles eyes to him. “Are you okay?”

Stiles takes a deep breath, realizing his heart’s been racing. He nods slowly, trying to calm himself, ignoring Derek’s worried look. “Fine. Totally fine.”

He stands from the bed, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m just gonna take a little walk outside.”

When Derek’s chest rumbles with disapproval, Stiles can’t stop himself from smiling. He looks over at his wolfman, reassuring him. “I’m not going anywhere. I promise. I just want a little fresh air now that it’s not snowing out there.”

Derek stares at him for a moment before giving him a slight nod. Stiles wasn’t lying. He really is just going to get some fresh air. And if that fresh air happens to also be where the nemeton lies, well, that’s just a happy little coincidence.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles confronts the Nemeton and gets more than he bargained for.

Stiles finds the back door easily. His stomach flips and his chest flutters as he steps outside. The air is bitter cold, focing Stiles to pull his jacket tighter against his body. His steps are slow, precise as he moves forward, his eyes never leaving the Nemeton. 

It looms over him as he steps forward. The branches may be grey but it looks more alive than the day before. They reach over Stiles’ head, stretching through the air. That feeling inside Stiles’ chest, the one telling him of connection, of belonging, increases like a true, physical weight. His hand touches the center of his chest. 

“What are you trying to tell me?” Stiles whispers, his voice barely audible. 

Stiles’ hands shake as he reaches towards the tree, the bond inside his chest flairing, begging him forward. With an audible gasp, Stiles pushes his hand against the tree. His eyes roll to the back of his head and the world goes black. 

_ Stiles opens his eyes, his vision blurry for a moment before the scene in front of him comes into focus. Derek stands to one side of the room, a man with dark skin stands on the other. Derek’s shoulders are hunched, his posture showing defeat and Stiles wants nothing more than to walk over and pull Derek into his arms, comfort him. But he doesn’t. He stays frozen in place and watches.  _

_ “You can’t keep risking this, Derek,” the man says with a sigh. “It’s getting to the point where you can’t hide this anymore. We have to face the facts. You haven’t found your mate and there’s a chance you never will. You need to take your pack somewhere safe where people won’t find out.” _

_ Derek lets out a growl, finally turning around to face the other man. Stiles’ hand covers his mouth as he stares at Derek’s face which is curled in a snarl, his features showing just how furious he is. His fangs glisten and his eyes shine bright red. He’s beautiful in his fury even as Stiles understands what the other man means, Derek’s already changing into his beastly form.  _

_ “You think I should just give up? Deaton, I can’t. Whatever that bitch did to me is starting to affect our pack bond! I have to do something. For them!” _

_ The other man, Deaton, gives Derek a sad look. Derek’s face falls as Deaton speaks again. “It’s not safe for you to keep looking. The spell has taken ahold of you and you can’t pass as human anymore. Derek. I’m sorry.” _

_ “Sorry isn’t helping, Deaton. I just-“ Derek turns away, his claws digging into the side of the table he’s grasping. “I can’t give up. If it was just me I wouldn’t care but my pack needs me.” _

_ “Your old home is still available,” Denton says, an air of finality to the words.  _

_ “Yeah.”  _

_ The world around Stiles shifts, blurs, changes until he’s stood before a completely different scene. This one much darker. It’s storming. The wind whips against his skin, rain pours down, soaking him, but Stiles’ eyes are glued to the figure in front of him.  _

_ Derek’s back his hunched, poised for attack as he and a woman circle each other.  _

_ “Look how far the great Derek has fallen,” the woman says, voice dripping with sarcasm.  _

_ “Kate. Don’t.” _

_ Kate. The witch who cursed Derek. Fuck! Stiles wishes there was something he could do but this is just a memory.  _

_ Kate steps up to the Nemeton, placing her hand against the bark. “You’ll never be normal again, Derek. Forever cursed to look just like the beast you truly are.” _

_ Derek snarls are her, the sound resounding through the backyard and woods. _

_ “I only wish I could have made it permanent. But no,” she whines, looking at the tree. “Your beloved Nemeton just had to have a fucking safeguard.” Kate’s dark eyes turn towards Derek, a cruel smile lacing her lips. “It’s a good thing no one could ever truly love a beast like you.” _

_ Derek freezes and Stiles can feel the anger coming off of him in waves. But that’s not the only thing Stiles feels. That link inside him that he shared with the Nemeton comes to life. The tree reaches out to him, telling him exactly what it wishes for.  _

_ It must do the same with Derek because between one blink and another, Derek is looming over Kate, slashing his claws through her throat. Her red blood drips into the soil at the base of the Nemeton and the water from the rain washes it away. Stiles feels the tree’s power, feels it’s gratitude at being fed. Fuck, this is dark and twisted and Stiles is a  _ part _ of it.  _

_ That tug inside his chest is insistent, trying to pull him back as a howl rings through the air.  _

_ “Stiles!” _

_ The scene before him starts to blur. _

_ “Stiles!” _

_ The edges going black but all he can focus on is Derek and the Nemeton as they slowly blur from his view. _

“Stiles. Come on. Wake up, Stiles.”

Stiles’ eye blink open. His head feels disoriented, dizzy. He lets out a groan and the person hovering above him lets out a sigh of relief.

“You idiot,” Derek grits out, even as his hands gently caress Stiles’ cheeks. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“But I didn’t. The Nemeton doesn’t wanna eat me,” Stiles murmurs. 

Derek huffs, his warm breath tickles against Stiles face. When he finally opens his eyes, Derek’s worried face fills his vision. Stiles reaches up, touching his cheek, feeling the stubble there. His breathing comes down to normal as they stare at each other. 

“I’m okay,” Stiles whispers. 

Derek swallows, his face looking more open and vulnerable than Stiles has ever seen it. “I thought-” Derek says, eyes turning back to the Nemeton for a moment before turning back to Stiles. “I thought maybe I’d lost you.”

“I knew the Big Bad Wolf cared about me,” Stiles teases with a tiny smile. 

“You’re insufferable.”

“But apparently you love that about me.”

Derek rolls his eyes. He licks over his fangs before asking, “do you ever shut up?”

Derek’s thumb continues to brush over his cheekbone and it gives Stiles the courage to whisper, “I would if you made me.”

Derek’s eyes darken, flicking down to Stiles’ lips. They’re so close already. Stiles holds his breath, wondering if Derek will do it or not. 

Derek’s lips tick up ever so slightly before he’s pushing forward, finally shutting Stiles up with a gentle kiss. 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What do you want, Stiles?"  
> “Derek. I want you. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Stiles has no idea how they actually got to Derek’s room but at this point he couldn’t give two shits. Not when he’s in Derek’s strong arms as they trade frantic kisses. Stiles lets out a groan as Derek’s big hands moves lower, grabbing onto Stiles’ ass cheeks. 

Stiles’ heart beats frantically against his ribs as he pulls back in order to breathe, only to tilt his head, showing off his throat to Derek. The growl Derek lets out, the rumble vibrating again Stiles’ chest, has his knees going weak and his cock throbbing. 

“Fuck,” he gasps out as Derek begins peppering kisses to the exposed skin. He unconsciously pushes his hips forward, thrusting his hard dick against Derek’s answering hardness. 

It’s maddening, the lust and want that Stiles is feeling. Derek’s teeth graze his skin and he lets out a whimper. 

“Please,” Stiles whispers, his hands digging into Derek’s shoulder. 

Derek pulls back enough to look at Stiles. His eyes shine bright red, his nose still looks more wolf than man, and his fangs are long and present. He’s beautiful. 

“What do you want, Stiles.”

Stiles doesn’t even have to think. “Derek. I want you. Whatever you’ll give me.”

Stiles lets out a yelp of surprise that quickly fades into a moan as Derek lifts him off the ground and carries him over to the bed. Derek lays him down gently, like he’s something precious, and Stiles’ chest threatens to burst with affection. 

Never before has Stiles been so taken care of, handled so gently. Derek takes his time stripping them both of their clothes, laying gentle kisses to each new exposed patch of skin. 

“Please, Derek,” Stiles gasps out as Derek sucks a red bruise into Stiles hip bone. 

Derek switches positions, laying back on the bed and pulling Stiles into his lap. He hands Stiles a bottle of lube which Stiles takes with shaky hands. He can feel his heart racing and his breath forcing its way out in pants. He closes his eyes, trying to control his nerves. 

“Hey,” Derek whispers. Stiles looks down at him, finding understanding and fondness. He doesn’t have to say more. 

“It’s okay,” Stiles says back. The hand not holding the lube rubs across Derek’s chest. “I want this. I want you so bad, Derek. And not just like this either.”

Stiles lubes his fingers up before reaching back, stretching himself open. As he does that, he goes back to talking. “I want you when you’re so fucking grumpy in the morning you look like you could break glass just with your eyebrows.” He throws his head back, eyes closed, pleasure thrumming through his body. “I want you when you’re being a stubborn asshole who won’t let me cook for him.” Stiles lets out a gasp when he pushes in a second finger. “I want you when you’re scolding the betas for doing something stupid.” He finally looks back down, panting. 

Derek stares at him, something close to awe written all over his face. “Like when they chase an innocent person through the woods,” he says with a small smile. 

Derek lets out another growl, another reminder that he’s not human, before pulling Stiles down by the back of his neck. “Anyone ever tell you you talk too much?”

“All the time, Big Guy,” Stiles answers. He kisses Derek. This time it’s not gentle. It’s all teeth and tongue. Stiles’ heart speeds up with anticipation, the need to feel Derek inside him flooding his entire being. “Fuck.”

“Planning on it,” Derek snarks. Stiles watches with rapt attention as that smug look slowly melts away as he lowers himself onto Derek’s dick. 

“Oh my god,” Stiles murmurs. Derek’s cock stretches him, filling him up like never before. The bond inside his chest warms, making him feel giddy. As his ass sits against Derek’s lap, Stiles lets out a euphoric laugh. “God.”

“Stiles,” Derek says through gritted teeth, his fangs biting into his lip, causing it to bleed. Those bright red eyes stare up at him and Stiles whimpers. 

Stiles begins moving his hips, moaning at the feel of Derek’s cock moving in and out of him. Derek’s claws run down his back and Stiles leans back into the touch, hoping for long, red marks left behind. Fuck. Every reminder that Derek’s not quite human has Stiles’ dick throbbing, leaking precome all over Derek’s belly. 

Derek pulls Stiles down, holding him in place as he thrusts up into Stiles’ ass. Stiles uses the moment to lick across Derek’s lips, tasting Derek’s metallic blood on his tongue. Stiles whimpers as his hole somehow stretches even further. 

“What the-” Stiles whispers, his eyes wide as he stares down at Derek. 

“Fuck. We can’t,” Derek murmurs, his face looking pained with his will to hold still, to hold himself back. But Stiles doesn’t want that. He wants all of Derek. 

“Come on, Derek. Give it to me. I want it. Please.”

Derek shakes his head. “It’s too much. It’ll be too much, Stiles.”

Stiles isn’t sure if he means the stretch or the physical tugging in his chest but Stiles doesn’t care. “I can take it. Please, Derek. I know what I’m asking.” For the most part. “I want it. All of it.”

Derek clenches his eyes shut as he starts thrusting again, this time harder. It’s like now that he has permission he can’t slow down even if he wanted to. There’s a tugging on Stiles’ rim before Derek is groaning, thrusting his hips up until they’re pressed up against Stiles’ ass. 

“Oh my god!” Stiles gasps as Derek’s wraps around his cock at the same time as Stiles feels Derek’s warm cum splashing inside him. The pressure in his ass grows quickly to the point of pain. At the same time, Stiles’ hand touches his own chest where the bond is. It sings with connection to the point of being almost overwhelming. 

“Stiles,” Derek groans. His head is tilted back, exposing his throat to Stiles and the sight makes him lose it. He comes, painting Derek’s belly with his seed. His ass burns where Derek is still buried inside him. Stiles makes a pained whimper. “I got you,” Derek whispers, his hand touching Stiles’ face. “It’s my knot. You’ll be okay now.”

Stiles is amazed to see black veins running up Derek’s arm as his pain is taken away. The connection in his chest flaring even further, cementing itself. Fuck. It feels so good, so right. Stiles’ body goes limp and Derek is there to cradle him against his chest. 

Stiles wants to analyze everything that’s happened. Overthink every single detail, figure out why the connection feels different now, stronger, why there’s a literally knot inside his ass. But he’s too tired. And frankly, too content to question things right now.

Stiles’ eyes grow heavy as he lays against Derek’s chest, his fingers idly playing with his chest hair. Derek kisses the top of his head, nuzzling against his hair. 

“Thank you,” Derek whispers, his voice sounding gruff with emotion. 

“You have nothing to thank me for,” Stiles slurs out before falling asleep.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles finally gets to meet human Erica. And everything goes downhill from there.

Stiles stretches his limbs, feeling the reminder of last night, the beautiful ache through his body. If he twists just right he can feel the claw marks left across his back. Then there’s, of course, the lovely feeling of his ass deliciously sore. Stiles’ face has the biggest grin stretching it wide as he thinks about last night. 

“Wow,” he breathes, still in absolute wonder. They actually did it. And Stiles, being the sap that he is, wouldn’t even call it fucking. No. What they did last night went so far beyond that. It was special, and amazing, and, well,  _ making love. _

His arm stretches out to the side of the bed, meeting cool sheets. He lets out a huff. “I really need to have a word with that guy about leaving his bed partners before we have a chance to cuddle.”

Getting out of bed, Stiles finds the clothes he showed up in at the end of the bed, washed and folded. He thinks about the other days he wore Derek’s clothes and sighs. As long as they’re not ready to kick him out, he supposes he can wear his own clothes. 

Walking down the hallway, Stiles stops and touches his stomach when it fills with excitement and joy. A smile flits across his face as he recognizes the pack. Something’s happened. His steps pick up as he hears a scream of delight from downstairs. 

“Stiles!” a female cries as he walks down the stairs. “Stiles! You did it!”

Suddenly, he’s engulfed in a tight hug. She picks him up, spinning around in a circle and all Stiles can see is blonde hair which flies against his face as they spin. He laughs, filled with the pack’s joy for their packmate finally being human. He lets out a full belly laugh joined in by Boyd and Isaac who are watching with fond looks on their face. 

“Stiles,” this woman, who Stiles assumes is Erica, says, holding his face between her palms. There are tears in her eyes as she smiles at him. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He hugs her because he can’t not. After a moment, there’s more arms circling him and he realizes the betas are making him the middle of a tight group hug. In that moment, a little piece of Stiles breaks apart. His heart splits, leaving a little piece of himself with this pack, this family. 

A howl sounds through the woods and a shiver goes through Stiles’ body. He pulls himself away from the group hug, looking at all the betas in question. 

“There’s someone coming,” Boyd tells him. 

“Who cares. We’re finally humans!” Erica says, her voice laced with excitement. “We can finally leave the house. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to thank you enough, Stiles.”

“Why does everyone keep thanking me?” Stiles wonders out loud. 

Erica ignores him, continuing to talk. “I knew we’d finally find a spark! It was only a matter of time before  _ someone _ would stick. Derek could only chase away so many people that we brought him.”

The throwaway comment has bile rising to the back of Stiles’ throat. He feels sick to his stomach and there’s a buzzing in his ears that he can’t get rid of. Fuck. Was he just a piece of puzzle they needed in order to break the spell? Was that all he was to them?

His eyes blur with unshed tears as he backs away from Erica. His back hits a solid chest and he turns, finding Isaac looking down at him with a grin. “Plus you cook the best food. Even before I was human I was rooting for this to work just so we’d have a cook around again.”

Stiles pretends to smile, hoping they can’t tell how fake it is. “Right.”

He turns quickly, running up the steps towards his room. “Don’t go too far!” Erica calls after him. “Derek would kill us if something happened to you. Especially, now,” she adds with a laugh. 

How was he so fucking stupid? His chest aches as he stumbles into his room. His hands shake as he packs up what little things he has. Fuck. Everything hurts. His throat feels like it’s closing as he tries to hold back the tears. 

No wonder Derek wasn’t there this morning. He got what he wanted and now he didn’t really need Stiles around. Stiles thinks about how special their night was, how it was so intense. Was it all really just so Derek and his pack would be whole again? 

Stiles suddenly feels so fucking dirty and used. He searches for that bond inside his chest, tethering him to the pack. Closing his eyes as tightly as he can, feeling wetness slide down his cheeks, Stiles cuts the ties off. One by one, he feels them vanish, disappear. There’s two left when he hears a mournful howl. Gritting his teeth, Stiles feels the last ties, Derek and the Nemeton. With a choked off sob, he severs them too. 

“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. What’s left behind is an emptiness he’s never experienced before. It’s like he’s lost a limb, a part of him just gone now. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“Stiles!” he hears from outside. He runs to the window, finding Scott and his Dad. “Stiles, come out!”

He wipes his face quickly, hoping they won’t be able to tell he’s just been crying. Making his way downstairs, clutching his things to his chest, Stiles ducks his head as the betas crowd into him. 

“Stiles. What the hell’s going on?” Erica asks, gripping his upper arm. 

“Let go. I have to go.”

“Stiles, wait,” Boyd tries, his deep voice pleading. 

“No. I can’t do this,” he says, his voice cracking. “I get it. You have your humanity back. You don’t fucking  _ need  _ me anymore.”

“What the hell are you talking about? What about Derek?”

The tears finally fall without his permission. “You all  _ used _ me. And I’m fucking done. Find someone else to string along. I’m leaving before my heart gets anymore broken.”

“Stiles!” Isaac calls but he’s already making his way outside. 

Stiles runs, practically falling into his father’s arms which instinctively hug him tight. 

“You okay?”

Stiles nods. “I will be.”

He steers them away from the house. Scott nudges him with his elbow. When he looks over, Scott is staring wide eyed over his shoulder. “Dude,” Scott hisses, nodding towards the house. “What’s up with the creeper upstairs.”

Stiles takes a deep breath, willing himself to be able to look. He turns slightly, looking over his shoulder, finding Derek staring at him from the upstairs window. Even from here, Stiles can tell the spell is broken. Derek looks completely human. Stiles’ heart clenches, breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. He wants to scream and shout and cry. He wants to tell Derek how much he loves him, how he imagines their lives together, how he wants to be his mate forever and take care of the pack together. But then he remembers Derek’s words the night before, how everything was too much to ask of Stiles, how he fucking  _ thanked _ Stiles afterwards. 

With one last look, he turns back towards Scott and says, “that’s nobody important,” loud enough he knows the werewolf will hear it. It’s a lie that tastes bitter in his mouth. Stiles touches his chest. If he hadn’t severed the bonds, he’d say he could feel Derek’s heart breaking as well. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles unsuccessfully tries to bury the all encompassing hurt he's feeling until he snaps. With an axe in hand, Stiles is willing to threaten bodily harm to the damn Nemeton if that's what it takes.

_ Stiles lays back in the grass, his eyes scanning the picture perfect sky, watching as clouds drift by. He opens his arms, a furry head instantly lying against his chest. His fingers play in the soft fur. A smile plasters itself across Stiles’ face.  _

_ Letting out a happy sigh, Stiles finally looks down at Derek. “I love you,” he whispers, his chest feeling like it may burst with how happy he is.  _

_ Derek blinks up at him before sitting up, licking across Stiles’ cheek. Stiles huffs, pretending he’s upset but he loves this side of Derek, loves when he allows himself to be playful. The giant black wolf flops back down against Stiles’ chest. They snuggle under the sun, their own bubble of happiness.  _

Stiles wakes up. For a moment he forgets. For a moment he smiles, thinking about the love he feels for a grumpy ass werewolf. For just a second, Stiles thinks about the pack. 

But then Stiles remembers. 

“Fuck,” he whimpers, his hands finding his chest where his heart breaks all over again. If he were a wolf he would be howling in agony. Instead he curls into himself and weeps, mourning the family he thought he’d gained. 

~~~

It happens a week after Stiles has left Derek’s house. Despite the dreams plaguing him every single night, showing him all the ways he and Derek could be happy, Stiles finally gets himself out of bed and steps into the backyard. Regardless of feeling empty, drained, and broken, he forces himself out, even if it’s only so his dad will stop worrying. 

He sits in his backyard. Tilting his head up, Stiles lets the sun hit his face. For half a second, he almost feels like himself. But then a russell makes him open his eyes, looking for the source. 

Stiles stomach does a funny flip as familiar hazel eyes stare back at him from the bushes. He wants to scream. He wants to shout. He wants to lash out and throw something at the stupid fucking wolf looking at him. Instead, his fingers dig into the dirt as he tries to hide his hurt. 

Stiles lays back, ignoring Derek all together, just waiting for him to leave. He swears he hears a sigh before more movement. Stiles closes his eyes, feeling them prickle with tears that he refuses to shed. 

After a few more deep breaths, Stiles looks over to find a paper bag of his favorite curly fries. His stomach sinks, bile rising in his throat. He grips his hair, pulling on the strands so hard his scalp burns. 

Stiles leaves the bag there, unable to even touch it. It’s gone the next morning.

~~~

A few days later, Stiles finally leaves the house. He takes a drive around town and goes to the grocery store. That nagging feeling inside of his chest, reminding him of how empty he is constantly whispers to him but at least he’s trying to be himself, trying to get things back to normal. He’s about to step inside his house, arms laiden with grocery bags when he sees a pile of flowers on his doorstep. 

“For fuck’s sake,” he whispers hoarsely to himself. 

Stiles makes sure to step on them on his way through the door. 

~~~

Two weeks after leaving Derek’s house, the wolf shows up in Stiles’ room. Stiles is just so tired, forcing himself to stay awake, dreading the dreams he’s been having, always feeling more broken every time he wakes up alone. 

He doesn’t have the strength to turn Derek away. He can’t. The wolf jumps onto the bed, snuggling against Stiles’ side. His warmth, steady breathing, and heartbeat quickly puts Stiles into the most peaceful sleep he’s had since coming back home. 

In the morning, he finds Derek already gone. That afternoon, he puts a lock on his window. 

~~~

There’s a pull in Stiles’ chest that he just cannot ignore any more. Every single day the pull has grown. Stiles tried to push it down, tried to cut it out, but he can’t anymore. It’s there and it’s overwhelming. It’s driving him mad. He can’t sleep, can’t eat, he can’t  _ think.  _

He drives his jeep into the woods, following the pull until he’s parking in front of Derek’s home. Seeing the place again brings even more sadness. His breathing comes quicker as he steps out of his jeep. Fuck. His hands shake as he reaches back, grabbing his tool of destruction of choice. 

Stiles swings the axe around a few times, testing the weight of it in his hands before placing it against his shoulder and walking around the house. He knows exactly where this damn pull is coming from and he’s not above threats of violence. 

As his steps draw closer, the wind around him picks up. His hair whips against his head. He keeps moving forward, his mood mirroring the sky which suddenly darkens. Grey clouds form over head, a clash of thunder echoes through the air. 

“Are you kidding me?” Stiles calls up to the skies, glaring at no one in particular. “And everyone says  _ I’m _ the dramatic one!”

Stiles grits his teeth as he keeps putting one foot in front of the other. The rain comes down harder until he’s squinting, barely able to keep his eyes open. Finally, he stands in front of the Nemeton. 

“You fucker!” he yells, pointing an accusing finger at the tree. “Stop pulling me back! They lied! They don’t want me!” Stiles’ voice cracks at the last words, the fight going right out of him. He throw the axe down. “They don’t want me,” he whispers. 

Suddenly, Stiles can feel eyes on him. He turns slowly, finding Derek standing there. They stare at one another. 

“No,” Stiles pushes out, closing his eyes. “No. I can’t do this. I don’t wanna do this.”

He turns to leave but can’t. He looks down, finding vines twisting around his ankles, holding him in place. He turns towards the Nemeton, glaring at the tree. “Really?”

Stiles looks back over at Derek, finding the werewolf in a similar situation. 

Stiles bites his lip before sighing. “Fucking fine!” He turns towards Derek, noticing how the rain is slowing down around them. Derek’s shirt clings to his chest, his hair flat against his forehead. He looks so  _ human _ . 

“Talk, Derek. Because I can’t handle this anymore, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude.”

For the first time in weeks, Stiles feels himself smile. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Like a rubber band that's been pulled too tight, Stiles finally snaps.

Stiles’ heart beats so hard he can swear he hears it, the sound ringing through his ears. He tries to move again but the vines tighten, keeping him in place. Stiles looks over Derek’s face, taking him in like it’s the first time. And it kind of is, seeing as Derek is looking completely human. His thick eyebrows furrow as he stares back at Stiles. Those hazel eyes both piercing and dazzling. Stiles’ body is filled with tension waiting for Derek to say something more, anything. The werewolf looks pained as he stares. Like a rubber band that’s been pulled too tight, Stiles finally snaps. 

“Just say something!” Stiles yells. “You show up at my house with gifts. You bring me fucking flowers! Then you have the fucking nerve to come and sleep in my fucking bed with me.” Stiles grips his hair in frustration. “But of course you weren’t there when I woke up, like I’m some sort of dirty secret or something, only good enough to help you sleep but not have a conversation with. Fuck you, Derek! I can’t fucking do this anymore!” Thunder claps, vibrating through Stiles’ chest, echoing the storm going on inside him. “So fucking talk! Say something so I can go home and finally try to forget you.”

Derek’s expression turns haunted as Stiles talks. His eyes grow sad. After a moment, Derek finally speaks. “You just left.” His voice sounds almost as broken as Stiles feels. 

Stiles clears his throat, determined to stay calm now that he’s said his piece. “Yeah. I did,” he says, nodding his head. “After Erica informed me how she knew this one would finally work. How they’d tried and tried to find a spark for you to bond with and I was the lucky one who stuck.”

“That’s what you think? That we, that I just used you?” Derek asks, his brows furrowed. When Stiles just shrugs, he shakes his head. “You’re such an idiot.”

Stiles looks down at the ground, his sight blurring as his eyes fill with tears yet again. “Yeah,” he murmurs, finally looking up at Derek. “I really am.”

“Stiles,” Derek whispers but Stiles just shakes his head. 

“No, no. You’re totally right. I was the idiot who thought I’d found something special. I’m the idiot who’s constantly mourning my pack that wasn’t even really mine! I am the idiot who fell in love with a werewolf, only to find out none of it was real!”

Silence rings out through the yard as the two watch each other. The rain slowly stops falling, the wind stops blowing. Derek clears his throat, his cheeks slowly turning pink. 

“Is that true?”

“Which part?” Stiles grits out. 

“You love me?”

Stiles chews his bottom lip, his heart hammering against his ribs. A stray tear falls down and he quickly touches his cheek, trying to wipe it away. He finally looks up into Derek’s eyes, finding vulnerability there. Stiles nods his head because why not? He’s got nothing left to lose. 

The vines around Derek’s feet slowly sink back into the ground. Suddenly, Stiles in engulfed in Derek’s arms. He lets out a choked off sob into Derek’s throat as his arms come around, gripping Derek right back. The cracks in his heart slowly begin to fill. 

“Stiles,” Derek whispers, pulling back enough to look into Stiles’ eyes. “What Erica said. It was a misunderstanding or something.” He shakes his head slightly, a look of anger in his eyes. “All of my betas are idiots. They talk before thinking.”

“What are you saying, Derek?” Stiles whispers, hope filling his heart. 

“I’m saying-” Derek lets out a gruff noise of frustration before squaring his shoulders. He reaches up, holding Stiles’ face between his hands. “I’m saying I’m in love with you too. And I’m saying I want you to come back home, Stiles. You should be here. With your pack. With me.”

Stiles can feel silent tears running down his cheeks. “Really?”

Derek nods, pushing forward until his forehead is against Stiles’. “I’ve never felt like this before. It’s not some bond or spark. This is real. It’s just you and me.”

Stiles grabs the back of Derek’s neck, pulling him forward until their lips meet. It slowly makes him feel whole again. His heart speeds up and his stomach flutters. When Derek’s tongue gently licks at his bottom lip, Stiles doesn’t even have to think before opening up, allowing the werewolf access. 

He’s not sure how long they kiss, holding each other tightly, but when he pulls back, the sky has opened up, sun shines down on them. Stiles moves slightly, realizing that his legs are no longer tied down, the Nemeton letting him free now that they’ve come to an understanding. Apparently the Nemeton just wanted them to realize their feelings for each other. 

“The Nemeton is a dramatic bitch,” Stiles murmurs, a smile on his lips. “Apparently it really needed it’s otp together or it was gonna raise a stink.”

Derek tilts his head. “What the fuck’s an otp?”

Stiles looks at him, mouth open in shock. “I change my mind. This isn’t gonna work out after all.”

Derek grabs him, lifting him up. Stiles wraps his legs around Derek’s waist on instinct. “You’re not going anywhere, Stiles. I’ll learn whatever you want me to learn.” He kisses Stiles’ throat. “Just don’t leave again,” he whispers, his voice soft and vulnerable.

Stiles’ hands cradle the back of Derek’s head. “You don’t have to worry ever again. I’m here to stay.”

Suddenly there’s three cheering betas running into the back yard, huge smiles across everyone’s face. They tackle Derek and Stiles onto the ground, jumping on them and making a giant puppy pile. 

“Puppies!” Stiles yells with a laugh. He touches each of them, knowing he’s marking them with his scent. His heart feels so full, so happy. 

“Stiles,” Erica says, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “I’m so sorry I pushed you away. I didn’t mean what I said.”

“Hush,” he says, hugging her tight. “Everything’s okay now.”

“Was it the flowers?” Isaac asks. “Because that was totally my idea.”

“Stiles trampled those,” Derek murmurs. 

“I. Well. Yeah, I did. Sorry?”

They all laugh, holding each other tighter. The bonds slowly click back into place inside Stiles’ chest. It feels like Stiles is being put back together, piece by piece. The final one, the one he shares with Derek begins to form but Stiles knows it won’t solidify until later, when they’re alone. But for now, this is enough. Stiles thinks it might be perfect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter (AKA the epilogue) will be here Monday <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles thanks the Nemeton for bringing this family, HIS family, together.

“Oh, fuck,” Stiles grits out through clenched teeth. Derek’s fingers tighten against his hips, his nails digging into Stiles’ skin. “Yes. Right there.”

Derek’s thrusts pick up speed, slamming into Stiles. His cock rubs over Stiles’ prostate on every pass and it makes him toss his head back in pleasure. Derek uses the opportunity to run his fangs over Stiles’ exposed throat. 

“Derek. Fuck. I’m gonna come. Don’t you dare fucking knot me,” Stiles somehow gets out through his pants. “Oh my god.”

“You talk too much,” Derek whispers harshly. 

“Then shut me up, big guy.”

Derek’s hand wraps around his dick, stroking him in time with his thrusts and it’s enough to have Stiles keening as he cock erupts. His cum hits the wall he’s pinned to and he watches it slowly slide down to the floor. Fuck, it’s hot. 

Derek growls against his neck as he comes, filling Stiles’ ass with his warm seed. Stiles clenches down, prolonging Derek’s pleasure as long as he can. The bond inside his chest singing with pleasure and closeness. 

Stiles sags against the wall, bracing on his forearms. Derek’s arms wrap around him, holding him up. He kisses across the back of Stiles’ neck. 

“We have guests downstairs,” Derek murmurs. 

Stiles jolts, flailing his limbs, pulling his pants back up and turning towards the door. “We can’t leave them waiting! This is our first get together since I moved in. Gotta make a good impression!” 

“Stiles,” Derek stops him with a hand around his wrist. He yanks Stiles until he collides with Derek’s chest. He kisses Stiles’ lips gently before whispering, “I love you.”

Stiles’ face breaks into a wide smile. “I love you, too.”

On their way to the back yard, Stiles checks himself in the mirror. Other than a sizeable hickey he looks good. Derek gives him a smirk that makes Stiles roll his eyes. 

“Stiles!” his dad calls from across the lawn. It seems he’s helping Boyd at the grill. Scott’s here with Allison and if Stiles didn’t know any better it’d seem the couple was flirting with Isaac. Huh. 

Erica hip checks him. “Nice hickey,” she whispers with a giggle. His hand comes up to cover it but that only makes her snicker more. “You do realize we can smell what you two were up to, right?”

Stiles groans, covering his face. “You’re the worst.”

Erica shrugs. “So I’ve been told.” She hands him a beer before murmuring. “I’m glad you’re finally moved in. Didn’t feel right to have you away from the pack. Welcome home, mommy.”

Before he can argue the nickname Erica is running off to Boyd. Stiles shakes his head but there’s a wide smile plastered to his face that’s basically permanent since that night the Nemeton brought them back together. 

Everyone is occupied so Stiles takes a tiny detour, walking over to the Nemeton. He puts his hand on the tree. “Thank you,” he whispers. There’s a little tug in his chest, letting him know the Nemeton knows he’s grateful. 

Stiles turns, his back against the Nemeton as he watches his family. He never thought getting lost in the woods, chased by wolves, and finding a beast would turn out like this but fuck is he glad for it every single day. Watching his human family mingle with his pack fills Stiles with joy, thankful he doesn’t have to hide. They all mesh, giving Stiles a bigger family than he thought he’d ever have. 

“What are you thinking about?” Derek asks with a small smile on his face. Derek pats the Nemeton before looking down at Stiles. 

“Just remembering when you used to look like every kid’s literal nightmare. Turns out you clean up real nice, Derek.”

Derek huffs. “You ever miss the fur and claws?”

Stiles taps his chin pretending to think about it. He leans forward, placing his lips right against Derek’s ears. “Those claws would have made you fingering me this afternoon a lot more difficult.” 

“Fuck,” Derek hisses. “You can just say shit like that.”

Stiles smirk, remembering another time Derek said those words. He nips at Derek’s ear before pulling back. “I can. And there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“But Stiles,” Derek says, getting a predatory grin on his face. “I’m the Big Bad Wolf. Do you really wanna talk like that to me?”

Stiles’ eyes widen for a moment before he springs into action, taking off into the woods. “You’ll have to catch me first!”

Stiles can hear his pack cheering along, yelling for Derek to get him. He feels their excitement through the bond. Stiles laughs as he runs, loving that this is his life now, and forever, as long as they both shall live. 

The End.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this is it! I hope you all enjoyed <3 Thanks for all the comments and encouragement along the way.   
> If you'd like to see more of me, come follow me on Tumblr. (I'm Tobythewise over there as well)  
> Love you all so so much!!!


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